


Here Comes Santa Claus

by SuburbanSun



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bickering, Christmas, Christmas AU, F/M, Holidays, Meet-Cute, Non-SHIELD AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:55:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6805513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuburbanSun/pseuds/SuburbanSun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitzsimmons + "both going for the last Santa outfit in the store the night before Christmas."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Comes Santa Claus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fitzsimmonsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitzsimmonsy/gifts).



> The lovely Fitzsimmmonsy requested Fitzsimmons + "both going for the last Santa outfit in the store the night before Christmas" for my three-sentence fics on Tumblr and I'm not good at three-sentence fic! So here you have it-- Christmas in May!

Fitz strolled down the aisle of the quaint little Christmas shop, ducking to avoid boughs of holly, errant mistletoe, and the fully-functional Polar Express that barrelled down tracks winding all throughout the store. He scowled-- he’d much rather stop and have a look at the train, but he had to pick up the Santa suit for his company’s annual Christmas Eve party, and he just barely had enough time to make it.

When he rounded the corner to the back of the store, where a helpful elf had said the suits would be, he stopped short. A woman, petite and pretty, stood beside the rack of suits-- or, rather, the rack where suits had once been. It was empty, and there she was, smoothing out the bright red coat and adjusting the bushy white beard of the last Santa suit Paula’s Holiday Emporium had to offer.

“Excuse me,” said Fitz, taking a few cautious steps toward the woman. She turned her gleaming brown eyes on him, and he furrowed his brow. He’d never found Santa Claus to be a particularly attractive mythological figure before, but there seemed to be a first time for everything. He pushed the thought away, and continued. “That appears to be the last Santa suit in the store.”

“So it does,” she said, pulling the beard and mustache combo down so it rested beneath her chin. She smiled politely up at him.

“So, the thing is, it’s Christmas Eve.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “So it is.”

Fitz put both hands on his hips, huffing a bit impatiently. “It’s just, I really need that costume. I was supposed to play Santa for my work party tonight, and I’ve already been to three other stores.”

Her eyes lit up at that. “You were going to play Santa?” she asked. He nodded, and a gleeful chuckle bubbled up within her. “But you’re so…”

“So what?” He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

She laughed again, tucking her hair behind one ear. “Well, you don’t exactly have a bowl full of jelly,” she said, gesturing at his stomach. He looked down at it-- he was rather chuffed that he had never developed the soft paunch that some of the other men in his cohort had. He made sure to get up from his workspace and walk around the lab for at least ten minutes every hour, thank you very much. He looked back up at her, glaring.

“Oh, because you’re the picture of Father Christmas, aren’t you? Right down to the rosy cheeks and glint in your eye?” Actually, her cheeks _were_ a bit rosy, and her eyes sparkled with laughter, but never mind that.

“What I lack in a resemblance to an overweight elderly man, I make up for in preparation.” She picked up the red velvet Santa hat from the shelf beside them and placed it on her head at an angle so jaunty it only served to piss Fitz off.

“Preparation?” He barked out a laugh. “It’s, oh, 4:17 p.m. on December 24th. You were only more prepared than me by about a ten-minute head start.” He raised his eyebrows smugly. She may have the suit, but she couldn’t have that one.

But she just smiled up at him sweetly before hiking up her red trousers and making for the front of the store. He nearly tripped over his feet to follow her, hands fisting annoyedly at his sides.

“Oh, did you think I just popped in ten minutes ago?” she called casually over her shoulder as they walked, him nipping at her heels. “Nonsense. The last available Santa suit likely sold out hours ago. Perhaps days, even. I pre-ordered this one in November. I’m simply picking it up today.”

Fitz stuttered to a stop and gaped at her back for a moment before rushing forward. “Then why on earth were you back there puttin’ it on?”

She rolled her eyes, something he only noticed because he’d caught up with her just before the checkout counter. “That’s the only aisle with a full-length mirror, of course. I can’t have my beard amiss.” The woman pulled a credit card out of her purse and handed it to the cashier, and as the register dinged, Fitz sighed.

Perhaps she’d won, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make her feel bad about it. A classic loser’s victory. He reached up a hand to scratch at his stubble as she signed her credit card slip.

“You know, you’re letting down an awful lot of hard-working engineers and their spouses and significant others,” he began, following her toward the store’s exit. He let out a big, theatrical breath. “Every year, they slave away, and only look forward to one thing--”

“Sitting on their coworker’s lap?” she interjected merrily. “How scandalous.”

“What? No!” Why was this woman so infuriating? “I _meant_ the _fun and frivolity_ that only seeing an esteemed coworker in a ridiculous suit can offer. It’s tradition.”

They traipsed through the busy parking lot, her stepping carefully in oversized black boots, him instinctively holding a hand out in case she stumbled (though she never did). He didn’t even realize he’d passed his car until they’d apparently reached hers. She unlocked it, but didn’t yet open her door, turning instead to face him.

“That sounds awfully compelling. I’ll be sure to channel that fun and frivolity as I deliver presents to hospitalized children.” She grinned. “I’m a doctor, as well as a Santa.”

His mouth dropped again, and his shoulder slumped. She’d played the trump card; she’d won.

“Alright, alright. I get it. You’re amazing and kindhearted and I’m--”

“Someone who doesn’t want a unit full of sick children to have a happy Christmas?”

He groaned, letting his head loll back. “I’ve had finer hours, I’ll admit it.”

She opened her car door then, tossing her purse onto the center console before turning back to him. “Tell you what. I’ll let you make it up to the children. Come deliver presents with me. You can be my elf. Then I’ll relinquish the suit to you in time for you to make it to your party just a bit late. That way, we both win.”

Fitz watched her for a moment, surprised by the suggestion, but when she slid into her seat and cocked her head once toward the passenger door, he didn’t think twice.

And if later, after spending a few hours with a roomful of kids managed to inflate his heart a few sizes, he never even made it to his work party, instead choosing to accept the kind, smart, beautiful Santa’s offer of peppermint tea and scones in the hospital cafe-- well, perhaps that was just a Christmas miracle.

**Author's Note:**

> Want to hang out on Tumblr? I'm unbreakablejemmasimmons over there!


End file.
